


When All Was Lost (You Found Me)

by ehsexual



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Major Illness, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Neglect, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, self-neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehsexual/pseuds/ehsexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samuel, a young Canadian-born blonde, can hardly even be considered a college student. He doesn't study, doesn't do his homework, and hardly even has the will to show up to class. He hides behind his arrogance to keep people from finding that he's truly self-loathing, and goes out of his way to ensure nobody gets to know him personally. Then there's Nicola, the humble Italian who attends study groups often and has superb grades. Nicola knows education is the only way to success, and wants to make his family proud. When these two seemingly opposites meet, they don't seem like the types that would ever come across each other again. However, once they discover they have a class together, never meeting again doesn't seem practical. Samuel's fear of becoming acquainted with someone comes true as he and Nicola just keep running into each other, as much as Sam tries to avoid him. As they spend more time together, the two quickly realize they share a similar interest in each other that they simply can't avoid. The deeper their relationship becomes, the more Nicola starts to believe that maybe there's something else behind Samuel's strange behavior - and the more Samuel realizes that his secret may have to come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When All Was Lost (You Found Me)

**Author's Note:**

> About the characters: There will be a romantic relationship between the two main characters, this is certain. The two main characters (and most likely the only notable/Hetalia based characters) are 2P!Canada and 2P!North Italy. The characters are a version of Hetalia characters: 2P. Maybe you've heard of 2P, great. Maybe you haven't. Basically what happened was the creator of Hetalia drew some of the characters in a different color scheme and different clothes, and the fanbase for whatever reason put personalities behind these character versions. They're called '2P's because their personalities are often shown as opposite that of their original character, or their '1P' counterpart. (It's 2P as in 'second player' such as in a video game, where as if you are playing a character and a second player joins, they often play as the same character but in a different color). The 2P personalities are ENTIRELY HEADCANON however, so please don't call me out on them being 'out of character' when there is no official character to base them on! Another important point, I don't use the commonly used 2P names. Many people use 'Matt' for 2P!Canada, but I don't like Matt because it suggests he doesn't have a different name from his counterpart Matthew and I feel the 2Ps deserve their own unique names, so I gave him the name Samuel. Many people call 2P!Italy 'Luciano'. I don't use this name simply because years ago when the 2Ps were first introduced, people called him Feliciano and since I wanted him to have his own name, I called him Nicola. When people started calling him Luciano I didn't want to change what I'd been calling him for years already just to make it easier for others - besides, I don't think the name Luciano fits him well because it means 'light' and unless that's intentional irony it doesn't work, haha. So in short 2P!Canada = Samuel, 2P!North Italy = Nicola. Also an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE is that this is a human AU, so I will NOT be calling them Canada and Italy. So if you forget who is who, just come back to this paragraph :) And you might want to know their appearances before-hand (not that I won't describe them) so if you want a clearer picture a quick Google search would suffice.
> 
> Alright now about the story. I had to shorten the summary from my original posting (from another fanfiction website) so I hope the point came across and isn't too cheesy-sounding. I definitely tried to make this story different from the typical school setting and since I'm in college it should be accurate for the most part and not a romanticized representation of what younger kids think college is. Which brings me to the setting: Present-day university in an urban area. I haven't decided if I'm going to pick a real city or keep it vague. Oh right also I forgot to mention in the whole 'characters' part: I tagged 2P!America and 2P!Romano in this fiction. This is because they are mentioned (being brothers of the main characters) however as I haven't written past Chapter One I don't know if they will actually appear in the story. Just thought I'd include them in the tag just in case though ;)
> 
> Alright that should conclude this note! Please give me feedback! This is my first work posted to this fanfiction site and I'd like to make a good first impression! C:

"What a long day..." Nicola sighed, fidgeting with the keys in his hand as he walked down the dim, lamp-lit sidewalk. He was eager to get to his apartment and put the day behind him. The Italian knew from the moment he walked out the door that morning, spilling coffee all over his shirt, that the day ahead would be full of misfortune. It was bad enough he was already late to school, but after that, the normally quite fashion-conscious man looked like a mess, and on such an important day. Ah, then of course there was that - today, the majority of Nicola's classes had midterm exams and essays due. Nicola, being a determined student, was well-prepared as usual, but for whatever reason had blanked at some of the most important parts of his midterms. The young man had kicked himself for it - that was high school stuff! This was college, and spacing out during exams was just not acceptable.

But now that was all behind him, and he couldn't wait to just flop into his bed and enjoy his three-day weekend before facing the consequences of his terrible test scores upon his return to school.

Nicola wearily walked up to his apartment building, searching through his keys to find the right one. He found the key to the front gate, and when he looked up, he froze.

 _You can't be serious_ , he thought to himself, upon seeing someone laying on the sidewalk right in front of his building. He appeared to be a sleeping homeless man - with somewhat tattered clothes and matted hair. Nicola had hoped he could maneuver around him, but the man was completely blocking the stairs. For a moment, the college student feared maybe it was some sort of trap - maybe that the man was planning to grab Nicola's leg and rob him or something. Luckily, Nicola was always prepared. The wary Italian took out a small, retractable blade which he always carried on him, holding it firmly as he approached the still figure. Upon closer inspection, Nicola found that the man's clothes didn't exactly look like rags, rather, they were clothes any guy would wear, just slightly mangled. And he didn't look unclean like a homeless person would. His blonde hair was actually fairly soft-looking, as if he'd showered just that morning. So if this man likely has a home, what was he doing outside on the ground?

"Hey," Nicola stepped forward, keeping the blade close. He knelt down beside the un-moving man, "Sorry, but you can't sleep here. Hello?"

Now starting to fear that maybe the person was dead, Nicola took his small knife and used it to carefully brush the man's blonde hair away from his face.

"Oh merda..." he mumbled. He started to fear for the worst when he saw blood on the stranger's face. "Please don't let there be a murder scene outside my apartment." The man looked about 20-something, and attractive. What would be the motive to kill someone so young and in their prime? He took a deep breath, hoping that his day didn't just get a whole lot worse, and put his fingers to the man's wrist.

A pulse.

 _Thank god!_ Nicola let out a sigh of relief. Even if the man wasn't dead however, there was still the issue of having a bloody and possibly battered person on your front steps. Nicola put his dagger away and cautiously stepped over the man, unlocking the gate to the apartment building. Luckily, his apartment was one on the first floor, so it didn't take long for him to get in, set down his things, and bring a bottle of water back to the unconscious man. Nicola stepped over the still body and knelt beside him again, then started dripping water onto his face. The water rinsed away much of the blood, and eventually, the Italian heard a groan from the stranger as he opened his eyes.

"Oh god, my head!" the blonde moaned, putting a hand to his temple. Feeling that his face was wet, he removed his hand and inspected it, finding a mix of water and blood on his fingers. "Shit, that's right, I got my ass kicked..."

"Are you okay?" came a concerned voice from above him. Startled, the young man scurried back against the steps. "Did you touch me?!"

Nicola blushed, shocked, "W-What? No, I was helping you! I wouldn't take advantage of someone like that!"

"No, pervert," the stranger corrected, "Did you touch my blood? I need to know."

"Um, no, I didn't." _Is he afraid I'll contaminate him or something? How strange._

"Good," he said, and dropped the subject. "Man, I gotta get home," the blonde man tried to lift himself up, but found the attempt unsuccessful. "Agh, my ankle hurts... Jesus they must've really stomped me or something."

"Let me help you up, si?" Nicola reached down to take the man's arm and help him.

"No!" he pulled his arm back fretfully. "I-I mean, if you want to help me, go get a towel or something. Please."

Nicola took some offense at the request. _Does he think I'm dirty or something? Maybe he doesn't want to touch me because he's racist! Or maybe he's really weird about germs?_ Regardless of the man's reasons, Nicola went back into the apartment and got a large towel. When he came back, he laid it on the ground.

"Sit on the towel then, and I'll carry you," said the Italian, a bit grumpy with the stranger's odd request.

The man didn't want to be carried, but knew his only other option was to limp home, so he reluctantly complied and lifted himself onto the towel. "Go ahead then."

Nicola prepared his back, bent down, and lifted the blonde up into his arms.

"Dio mio, you're heavy!" Nicola struggled to get the man up the short set of steps.

"It's muscle mass, asshole. And this was your idea anyway."

"Don't call me names. For all you know, I could drop you right where I stand." Nicola chuckled and brought the man into his apartment, laying him down on the small loveseat he had. "Let's see what injuries you have, si? I'll get some bandages."

"Fine, but don't touch them. I'll do it myself," said the wounded man as he began to search for cuts. He removed his near-empty backpack, coat, cardigan, and flannel button up, leaving just his white T-shirt on, and he rolled up his pants to check his ankle.

Nicola had come back with some sort of home-made first aid kit filled with bandage wraps, gauze, alcohol, and similar care items. "Here," he handed the man a wet washcloth.

"Thanks," the blonde wiped his face with it, and anywhere else he could find blood, which was just a few scrapes on his knees and legs. The layers of clothing he wore protected him from the majority of possible injuries.

"You know, you look familiar without that blood on your face..." said Nicola curiously.

"Yeah, we go to the university down the street. We're in the same health class. You're Nicolas or something, right? I'm Samuel - Sam for short."

"It's 'Nee-koh-lah', not Nicolas. And you are in my health class? Hardly! Aren't you constantly skipping class? How have you not been dropped?!"

"I have a special arrangement with the professor...besides, no one takes attendance seriously, eh? Can you hand me some small band-aids for my scrapes?"

"Sure," Nicola passed him the small kit, "What happened outside anyway?"

"I got into a little skirmish," said Samuel as he patched up his scrapes. The blood on his face turned out to be just from a bloody nose, so he didn't need to use a bandage there. He took some disposable gauze wrap from the first aid kit, wrapping it around the bloody washcloth and completely covering every area.

"Little? You were unconscious."

"Yeah, the dickbags caught me at one of my weak moments. Speaking of which, could I get an aspirin or something? My head is fucking killing me." Samuel rubbed his aching forehead. "Also, you should throw this away," he said, giving the wrapped-up cloth to the man before him.

"Sure," Nicola nodded and took the first aid kit back, pulling out a small pack of two headache pills. He grabbed the wrapped washcloth as well, going to the kitchen to throw it away and bringing back a glass of water. "So...it was a group of bullies that harmed you?" He handed the pills and water to his guest.

"They're just dicks that have nothing better to do than to hate on me," Samuel replied before swallowing the pills, chasing them with water and handing the glass back. "They aren't always a problem. Just a few times a week or so. Whenever they find me on campus or in the neighborhood." Samuel now held his ankle, inspecting the purple and yellow bruising all around it. "God, this looks so bad, and it feels even worse than it looks."

"A few times a week is very often. And you always fight these men by yourself?"

"Of course! I don't have too many friends. I mean, I have acquaintances, but no one who'd back me up in a fight. Besides, I'm usually pretty strong! I played hockey my whole life basically, so I know how to fight!" Sam said proudly.

"Why do they hurt you? What did you do to them?" Nicola asked curiously.

"Well, they just don't like guys like me, that have my kind of lifestyle. Y'know, Canadians," Samuel joked.

Nicola chuckled, but wanted to know why they really hated Samuel. "What is the real reason though? Why do they pick on you Samuel?"

"Just because I'm different."

"You don't seem so different to me," the Italian smiled.

"Well you don't even know me, so you can't say that."

"Hm, you're right, I don't know you. But, I'm getting to know you, si?"

"Why do you keep saying that? Are you Mexican?" Sam queried.

Nicola was highly offended. "Mexican?! No! I'm from Europe! Can't you tell an Italian when you hear one?"

"Ohh that's what it is. All I know is, you're tan and you have a funny accent."

"That's it, isn't it? You are racist! That's why you were freaking out about me touching you!" Nicola exclaimed, sorry he even invited the man into his apartment. He should've let him freeze out there!

"What? Racist? No way! I love spaghetti." Sam laughed.

"That doesn't make you not racist... So if you aren't racist, what then, are you afraid of germs or something?"

"You can call it that," replied the blonde.

"Do you ever have straightforward answers?"

"Depends."

Nicola sighed, aware that he was getting nowhere. "I'm going to go change my shirt. I spilled coffee on it this morning. Just lay here all right?" He left to his bedroom, leaving the door cracked a bit - you could never trust a stranger completely, so he had to keep an ear out. With some strange curiosity, the Canadian man felt the need to see what the Italian was up to. He let his head fall back, hanging it upside-down on the edge of the loveseat, and spotted Nicola in his room taking off his shirt. Red-faced, he watched the white, stained shirt rise above the man's head, revealing a set of tanned abs and fluffing up his short brunette hair. Nicola had walked away for a moment, but Sam's fascination kept his eyes from diverting. When Nicola returned to view, he was already wearing a blue V-neck. Samuel pouted a bit, but then realized that Nicola's nude torso wasn't the reason he was there. _I'm not that kind of guy anymore_ , he thought to himself. Nicola patted his hair down and started walking back to the living room.

Samuel had brought up his head and situated back to where he was before, laying on the loveseat. He thought maybe he should find a reason to leave - god forbid Samuel actually got to know the guy as more than just an acquaintance.

"You know what? I'm kinda hungry, maybe I should get outta here," said Samuel, attempting to lift off of the couch. "Owww!" He bit his lip in pain, trying desperately to let the pressure off of his ankle. There was no way he could walk home like that. He lived blocks away.

"Looks like you're staying here, si?"

"But, I have to eat, I have to sleep, I can't just hang out all night!" Samuel winced, his other ankle was hurting a bit too. He'd really taken a beating. Shit, it's like they really were trying to cripple me!

"Samuel, sit down," Nicola shook his head at the Canadian's foolishness, walking over and helping him sit back on the small sofa. "You can eat, and you can sleep. I have food here, and a couch. I may not know you well, but I'm not going to let you go out into the cold like this. Just look at the state you were in when I found you. Who knows how you'll end up if you go back out there. And to think what would happen if those bullies found you again. You'd end up dead."

Samuel thought for a moment. The guy had a good point! "Just for the night? You wouldn't mind? I don't wanna be a burden or anything." Secretly, the blonde was thankful Nicola didn't plan on sending him back out in such pain. Staying the night didn't seem like a terrible idea, as long as Samuel could control his flirtatious urges.

"We'll see how your ankle feels in the morning. You may have to go to your doctor to get crutches. For now, let's put an ice pack on it," Nicola suggested, going to his small kitchen. He put some ice in a sandwich bag and wrapped it with a paper towel. "Here, Samuel." Nicola let the Canadian lay across the loveseat as he sat the bag of ice gently across his ankle. Samuel groaned a bit, but the cold was soon relieving the pain greatly.

"How are you so good at taking caring of people?" asked the blonde.

"My older brother and I lived alone most of our lives. Well, not alone, but with our grandfather." Nicola sighed. He paused in thought, staring at nothing in particular during his moment of sentimentality. "Anyway, our grandfather still had to work, so my brother and I were home alone a lot. We learned how to cook for each other, clean up our messes, put bandages on our cuts after we messed with the neighborhood cats," he chuckled, "and just take care of each other."

"I see. I've got an older brother too. He's going to college in California, living the high life I'm sure. Then I've got one parent back in Canada and one here in the States."

"Oh, it must be hard for them to be so far away from each other," said Nicola, making his way to the kitchen to start some dinner.

"Nah, they've been separated for years. They used to live here first, then after they had my brother they moved to Canada and had me. My brother and I were pretty young when they separated. One of my parents moved to the U.S. and took him, and I stayed back in Canada with my other parent. It was pretty hard at first, but I got over it. We all see each other like once a year, so it's not so bad I guess. How often do you see your brother and grandfather?"

"I see my brother a few times a year, for important holidays. He still lives in Italy. And my grandfather recently passed... My brother and I are living off of the money he left us, for now."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Samuel frowned. "What happened with your parents?"

"They passed away when we were young, but old enough to know that they weren't coming back. It was a car accident. People drive crazy in Italy..." Nicola gave a small chuckle. "It's just me and my brother now, everyone who's ever loved us or taken care of us has died. I'm so sick of getting close to people when they end up going away in the end."

Samuel gulped. This was getting awkward.

"Mi dispiace, Samuel. Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that, I just lost myself. Well, how does spaghetti sound for dinner, since you like it so much?"

"Sounds good." Samuel was just glad to get off of that subject. "I haven't had spaghetti made by a real Italian. This should be interesting, eh?"

"Ah, I hope you like it. Traditional Italian dishes are different than what Americans - or Canadians - are familiar with. I will try to make it close to what you are used to though. Spaghetti noodles and marinara sauce with the meatballs, si? Easy." Nicola put some water on the stove to boil, and put a pot of sauce on low heat. He had some meatballs he'd already made about a week earlier in the freezer, so he preheated the oven and took them out to thaw a bit.

"Nicola, right?"

"Si, that's right."

"Is that, like, the Italian 'Nicolas' or something?" Sam asked.

"I suppose? It means 'victor of the people'. Very handsome Italian men's name, though it is not as popular now as it used to be."

"Oh. Is it Nic for short?"

"Well, no one's ever used that name for me..." Nicola put a finger to his chin, "But, I will let you use it, Sam."

"Cool," the Canadian grinned. "So, Nic, what are you going to school for?"

"Literature," Nicola blushed. It wasn't exactly a major anyone could get a career with, but it's what he was passionate about. "I love reading. When I was a child, I would escape life by reading. My brother would read to me too. I think that when you're going through a hard time, books are the best way to get through it. My dream is to own a huge library filled with books old and new and live in it my entire life."

"Hey, maybe I could help you build it!" Sam chuckled. "I'm majoring in Architectural Design and Engineering. As a kid I would play with building blocks a lot - well hell, I still do. I like to come up with crazy designs and imagine them being real. Huge skyscrapers, quiet parks, beautiful log cabins, everything. I draw them out too. You should see my apartment, I hang them up and scatter them all over the place!" he chuckled. Everybody had their own way of escaping. Nicola liked to get lost in books, and Samuel liked to distract himself with dreaming of nearly impossible things to build.

"You aren't laughing at me? Most people think I am...what you call a dork?"

"What? No way, that's one of the coolest dreams I've ever heard. You know what, as a gift for you being so damn good to me, I'm gonna design you a library. The biggest most beautiful library you've ever seen! With gold leaf trim and a spiral staircase, haha!" the blonde exclaimed. He loved getting new projects - even if he had a bad habit of never finishing his designs.

"Is this what you are always skipping class for? Staying home and drawing? I appreciate an artist's work, but don't you have priorities? You should be thinking about your future!" Nicola said in almost a scolding tone.

"My future? What future?" scoffed the blonde.

"Don't you want to be married? Have a house? A career?" Nicola questioned. "You need to succeed in school to pay for those things! They aren't going to be handed to you."

Samuel knew there was no point in arguing - Nicola just wouldn't understand. "I know, I know. But I believe this stuff is my future. I like to dream, and design, and build. The way I see it is, what's more important to my specific future: my two o' clock math class, or my actual designs, drawn out on paper, that I could really use someday?"

"But, don't you need math for architectural design regardless...?"

"That's beside the point. But I get it. You're right, I should be thinking about the long-term goals, the compromise, the big picture, yada yada yada. I've heard it all before from several campus counselors. By the way, I like my spaghetti spicy."

"You're going to like it whatever way I decide to make it. You're under my roof." Nicola replied.

"But aren't you supposed to act according to the wishes of your guest?" smirked the blonde from the sofa.

"You enjoy arguing, don't you? It's very annoying."

"I've been called annoying a million times and counting, doesn't phase me. And no, I don't like arguing; I just like being right." Samuel smiled smugly.

"Ugh, I should've left you on the sidewalk."

"To die?" the Canadian frowned dramatically.

"Obviously I wouldn't have. Just look where you are now - on my couch, with me in the kitchen preparing your dinner. I could think of being so cruel, but I couldn't have actually left you out there. But don't get any funny ideas, stranger. I'm always prepared for an attacker." Nicola smiled wickedly and stirred the sauce, adding noodles into the boiling water.

"I couldn't hurt the only person who's given the slightest shit about me since I've lived here."

"You really don't have any friends?" asked Nicola, almost sadly. Even he had a few friends, albeit they really only hung out during study sessions, but, Samuel didn't even have that.

"No, I don't. But don't even think about pitying me. I'm fine just where I'm at, thanks." Samuel looked away, fidgeting with his fingers.

"You're saying you don't get lonely sometimes? You don't have the urge to go to the movies with a friend, or to have someone to call in the middle of the night when you can't sleep, or just have someone there to listen to you complain about life while eating ice cream together?"

"It sounds like one of us has those urges." Samuel raised an eyebrow.

"What? I'm not denying I get lonely sometimes. At least I can admit it, though."

"Don't think for one second, that just because we're in the same class, that I'm spending the night, and that we're both mutually lonely that I want to be friends with you."

"You said it, not me," Nicola snickered. He put the meatballs on a cookie sheet and popped them in the oven, setting a timer on his phone.

"Well I'll pass on that offer."

"Samuel, please. I've only known you for a day. Don't flatter yourself in thinking that I'm dying to be friends with you," said the Italian with honesty.

"Well good. Then the feeling's mutual." Sam huffed, crossing his arms. He saw Nicola roll his eyes and shake his head in discontentment. It wasn't Samuel's intention to upset him though, especially after the man may have possibly saved his life.

"Hey, sorry for acting cranky. I don't know what's up with me. Must be the headache or something."

"I think your hunger is getting to you," replied Nicola from the kitchen. "Don't worry. I'll feed you well."

"Thanks, I've been eating nothing but ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese for two weeks. Not that they're bad, they just get boring after a few days."

"How can you afford your own apartment if you can hardly afford food? Do you have roommates?" asked Nicola.

"No, I'm by myself. I get a check every month from my dad, and I'm supposed to portion it out throughout the month but I splurged and bought a new video game console. I really needed the new NHL game." Samuel had no shame in his explanation, which he found to be a justifiable way to spend his living money.

"Aren't you lucky? Your parent is still paying fully for your living situation. Not many college students can boast that."

"Yeah, well, he just wants me to enjoy life while I still can." _Wow, that didn't come out sounding strange at all._

"I understand. He knows that you are still in the prime of your life, and need to enjoy yourself before giving in to adulthood, si?" Nicola laughed softly, "What a nice father."

"Yeah."

"But you're going to have to pay for things on your own someday. As kind as he is, your father can't take care of you your whole life. Funny though, I took you for the type of man who doesn't like to be taken care of," said Nicola.

"It's not like I haven't tried," Samuel shook his head. "I've had at least five jobs this past year... I get fired from every job I get. I just missed so many work days they had to let me go."

"That...doesn't sound like you tried. That sounds irresponsible. Why did you miss so many days?"

"A few reasons. It's none of your business, okay? Sorry, I just don't want to discuss it." Samuel shifted on the couch to lay on his side, moving his ice pack to the other ankle. He curled up and brought his hands to his chest.

Nicola could tell Samuel was very uncomfortable all the sudden. He couldn't tell why - he just asked a simple question. He didn't mean to offend him.

"Um, how many meatballs do you want, Samuel?" he asked.

"I don't really care."

"Samuel, I don't know your stomach. I don't want to put too many meatballs in here and then you end up wasting."

"I don't have a huge appetite right now. So, I guess three," replied the melancholy man.

Nicola frowned, stirring the spaghetti noodles which were almost finished cooking. He dipped a spoon into the marinara to taste it, making sure it wasn't overcooking. He lowered the heat on the stove until there was barely a flame to be seen below the burner, trying just to maintain the current temperature. The meatballs needed more time in the oven, so Nicola brought his phone with him into the living room to keep an eye on the timer he'd set. The brunette sat on the arm of the sofa, taking notice that Samuel, with his eyes closed, hadn't moved from his curled position.

"Samuel... Look, I don't know what I did, or if I hurt your feelings, but you must understand that we Italians are not afraid to ask questions when we are curious about something. So if you're going to be staying the night - and sadly you don't have any other good options - then you'll need to accept that I can be kind of nosy without realizing it is inappropriate. You cannot be so sensitive around me."

"Hey, I get it man. I get that you have questions. I'm fine, okay? I'm not the drama queen you're making me out to be, I'm just resting 'cause I'm tired, alright?" replied the blonde. Of course, he was only pretending that Nicola's nosiness didn't rub him the wrong way. Just one of the many reasons he never wanted to get to know people: it involves giving away information about your personal life.

"Hmph, if you say so," huffed Nicola, not believing a word of it. He could read the man like a book - something he was good at doing since reading books was a frequent hobby of his. However, he decided to let it be. Stubborn people like Samuel were better off left believing an argument was settled even if it was far from over.

Since the meatballs weren't even halfway through baking, Nicola just sat quietly on the arm of the couch to the sound of boiling water and soft breathing. He stared at the blonde boy laying beside him, watching his chest slowly rise with every inhale and exhale, and watching his pale eyelashes twitch every-so-often as his mind hovered in the blurred area between sleep and consciousness. Several thoughts crossed his mind as his eyes laid over the still form. For one, he questioned why he so willingly allowed a near-stranger to stay the night in his own home. He also wondered why anyone in their right mind would want marinara and meatballs to be paired with spaghetti, of all the noodle choices. He then pondered at how such a tall-seeming person could fit so snugly on only a two-cushioned sofa. Maybe these queries could never be satisfied. However, there were some questions that could possibly be answered. Like why Samuel missed so much school and work, why he was so vague with answers about his personal life, and why he seemed not to care much at all about his future. Nicola understood that it may not be his place to ask such personal questions, but he feared he was simply too deep into his own curiosity to just let it go. Perhaps if, for whatever reason, he and Samuel got to know each other better, Samuel could trust him enough to give him these answers. It wasn't too far fetched an idea, seeing as they were in the same health class. Nicola had many study partners, Samuel would just be another. He'd be sure to propose the notion to him later.

Before they overcooked, Nicola got up to remove the pot of boiling water, straining the noodles and tossing them in just a spoonful or so of olive oil so they wouldn't stick together. Just as the timer went off, he pulled the pan of meatballs out from the oven and stirred them into the pot of sauce to keep them moist, making sure to turn off the oven and burners afterwards. The brunette pulled out two bowls and scooped a small heap of spaghetti into each bowl. He poured the tomato sauce over the steaming noodles, making sure only three meatballs ended up in Samuel's portion. After topping them off with some freshly grated Parmesan cheese - something no serving of pasta should go without - the Italian stuck a fork into each mound and brought the bowls into the living room.

"Hey, I know the pills must be making you drowsy, but you should probably eat this food I just made you."

At the announcement of dinner, Samuel sat up, and seemed rather perky. Who could blame him after all - since he'd recently been on a ramen and macaroni 'diet'. The ice pack had fallen from his ankle, but it didn't seem to phase him as he became mesmerized by the aroma of an actual home-cooked meal. He pulled the towel that he'd been laying on away so Nicola could sit down as well. The chef handed him his bowl of pasta and Samuel hardly gave it time to cool before chowing down.

"Holy shit, this is great!" Samuel complimented with a full mouth.

"Good God, take your time! An Italian made this, show some appreciation!"

"I do appreciate it, I really do! It's just so good and my mouth gets mad when I'm not eating it," he gave a short laugh. "But thanks a bunch, really!"

Nicola rolled his eyes, but smiled. He was glad someone enjoyed his food, even if they weren't showing their meal the respect it deserved.

"You like it? I prefer fettuccine with marinara and meatballs, but this isn't terrible," said the brunette. He twirled the pasta on his fork and blew on it for a moment before taking a bite. He was very patient with his food and ate for taste and enjoyment, rather than rushing to eat out of hunger.

"Hey, don't Italians use a spoon to twirl the pasta on their fork? That's the proper way, eh?"

"Ha, no, it's not the 'proper way', it is the way children eat their pasta because they aren't yet skilled enough to twirl it with their forks alone without making a mess." Nicola chuckled and took another bite of his food. Even though it was a good laugh, he rather enjoyed educating people on the truths of his country's customs. "So, now that you've learned something new about my country, let's learn something new about yours, si?"

Samuel swallowed the food he had been chewing, "Alright. Whadya wanna know, eh?"

"Well, I was going to ask if you really do say 'eh' all the time...but I think you've answered that." The Italian worked on churning out a new question as he took another bite of his supper. "I know. Are pancakes the only thing you eat for breakfast? In Italy, we just have a cup of coffee and something small like fruit or a croissant. Do you really have pancakes with syrup every day? That seems so filling! And do you really put maple syrup in everything?"

"Hey now, one question at a time! First off, I can't speak for all Canadians, because that's the whole purpose of erasing stereotypes: one person can't represent an entire population. As for myself though, no, I don't eat pancakes every damn day. I'm a college student and I don't have time to cook every morning. Pancakes are probably my favorite breakfast however, with eggs and bacon too, but on a daily basis I just stick to my buddy Cap'n Crunch." Sam took a short break from speaking to take a bite, then continued to the second question, "And good God no we don't put syrup in everything! I mean, it's good for breakfast, and sometimes dessert like ice cream, but it's not like I put it in my mac 'n' cheese or my whiskey or my fuckin' mashed potatoes! Do people honestly think we do that? That shit sounds nasty." The Canadian stuck his tongue out in a disgusted facial expression before shaking his head and continuing to eat his meal.

"In your whiskey? So you drink?"

_That's the only information he took from that whole damn rant?_

"Yeah, I drink." The phrase was quite an understatement, but, of course, blatant alcoholism isn't something you bring up in casual conversation. "Beer, whiskey, mixed drinks. You?"

"Si, I drink a bit. I think beer is just awful. Whiskey isn't great either. I really just like mixed drinks. I enjoy wine on occasion, by which I mean I usually have about a glass a night," the Italian gave a light-hearted laugh.

"That so? Maybe we should grab a couple drinks sometime, eh?" Samuel had mentally scolded himself for offering, since the whole plan was to stay the night and get the hell out of there without actually getting to know the guy. But whatever - he'd be gone in the morning and never have to interact with him ever again, right? Just like with everyone else.

"That sounds...nice," Nicola looked to him and smiled softly, genuinely flattered that anyone would invite him to an activity that had nothing to do with studying. "I'll think about it, Samuel."

The boys sat in silence for a short time, just enjoying their food while it was still hot.

"Oh, I've got another one," said the Italian suddenly.

"Another what?"

"You know, a question about Canadians. Are you really as crazy about hockey as I've heard?"

"Are Italians crazy about soccer?" asked Sam in response.

"Well, of course! Soccer is cause for great celebration. It brings people together. I didn't have one friend as a kid that didn't have an Italian soccer player as one of their idols. I even wanted to be a famous soccer player at one point! I still play soccer today, leisurely - but it is still a big part of my life."

"Well there you go. We're crazy about hockey. We have riots when our teams don't win. Almost every kid I knew idolized a hockey player and wanted to be one - me included. I was a hockey player for a really long time, and even though I don't play now I still watch the games. Even the off-season shit," the Canadian replied, speaking as he chewed his food.

Ugh, no manners, thought the other man as he waited to speak until he was finished with his meal.

"So, is the medicine working yet? Do you still have a headache?" Nicola asked, concerned.

"It's working, but the pain isn't completely gone. It's my ankles I'm more worried about," he replied, as he recalled the pain now that the effect of the ice pack had worn off. He tried to finish his food, but after voraciously eating most of it his apetite had left him.

"Oh, mi dispiace. I forgot about your ankles." Nicola stood up, holding his empty bowl. "Are you finished? I'm not offended that you didn't eat it all, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Yeah, I'm done. Thanks for dinner," Sam gave a brief smile and handed Nic his bowl. Nicola went to the small kitchen to toss out the remainder of Samuel's meal. He rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then put the rest of the pasta into a large tupperware. After storing the leftovers in the refrigerator, he checked the time and walked back to the living area. "So, it's about half-past-six right now. Are you tired?" he asked his guest.

"Kinda, not really," the blonde responded.

"So would it be alright if I sit out here and read? I always read a chapter or two before going to bed - that is, if I can keep myself from reading the whole book," he laughed gently.

"Of course, it's your apartment man." Samuel yawned.

Nicola grinned and went to his room with a slight skip in his step.

That guy is way too excited about reading, Samuel thought. While Nicola was out of the room, he took the opportunity to get rid of the towel from underneath him, now that his scrapes were bandaged. He grabbed the towel and balled it up. Checking to make sure Nicola was still in the other room, Samuel stuck out his tongue in concentration, held the balled up towel in his hands, and threw it to the trash can where the kitchen began. As soon as the towel made it in, the man pumped his fist and let out a proud "yes!"

In his bedroom, Nicola changed into pyjama shorts, deeming the v-neck he was already sporting suitable to sleep in. He chose one of his larger white T-shirts and a pair of red, draw-string pyjama pants for Samuel. Before leaving, the brunette grabbed his reading glasses from the dresser and hung them from the neck of his shirt. In the hallway closet, Nicola found a fuzzy blanket that would surely keep his guest warm and made his way back to the couch.

"Here, Samuel." Nicola sat the blanket down over the back of the couch and handed the pyjamas to the blonde.

"Oh, thanks! You didn't have to get me pjs or anything, but I appreciate it."

"It's not a problem. You can get dressed while I try to remember where the book is that I wanted tonight." Nicola turned to his bookshelves against the back wall in the living room. As he hunched over in search of a particular story, Samuel changed into the shirt and - carefully, due to his ankles - the pants provided for him. Nicola released a triumphant "aha" once he located the hardcover novel.

Samuel picked up the ice pack and sat it atop one of his ankles again, then took the blanket and fanned it out, laying it over himself and the couch. He didn't hog it, just in case Nicola had gotten it for himself as well. Nicola brought his book over to the sofa, pulling up a corner of the blanket to sit down cross-legged and laying the blanket over his legs. He situated the book in his lap and opened it up to about the middle, where there was a bookmark. Samuel was leaning opposite to Nicola in the corner where the arm of the couch joined the back, and his knees were brought up almost to his chest, since he had to fit all of his body onto one cushion for now.

"Comfy?" asked Nicola as he put his glasses on.

"You bet," said Samuel as he yawned. He wasn't too comfortable, obviously trying to squish himself into a little square, but it sure beat being on that sidewalk outside. "Whatcha readin' about?" he added.

"A man who had no family and left his home to travel the seas in search of finding where he truly belongs. He finds some trouble along the way - deception, food shortage, illnesses, losing friends - and that's only half of the book so far. I don't know how it could get better from here, though no one said it has a happy ending," chuckled the brunette, licking his finger and turning the page.

After turning about the third page, Nicola glanced to Samuel and saw that the medicine had most likely done it's job, as the blonde appeared to be out cold.

Ah, since he's asleep maybe I should just finish this chapter and go to bed myself...

Three chapters later, Nicola tried to see the microwave clock from where he was sitting, but the cupboards were in the way.

 _I'm sure it's not that late_ , he thought. _Just one more chapter. I can't stop in the middle of this drama._

Samuel awoke to rustling and movement on the couch. He rubbed his eyes to see that Nicola was no longer on the couch. Yawning, Samuel sat up, and saw the Italian putting the book back on the shelf. Nicola turned to see him.

"Sorry I woke you, I was just going to bed."

"Nah it's alright, I have to use the bathroom." He stretched his arms and moved the blanket. The man attempted to stand, and with a pained hiss remembered the whole reason he was there.

"Ah, let me help!" Nicola came over and placed his arm around Samuel's back. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Okay, up," Nicola helped him carefully stand, and while Samuel fumbled at first, the extra help certainly took a lot of the weight off his ankles.

"Alright, now let's walk, si? Slowly if you must."

Samuel nodded and bit his lip. He needed to distract himself as they made their way step-by-step to the restroom.

"So, what happened with your story? How far did you get?" asked the struggling man.

"I actually finished it. In the end, the man ends up falling in love with a girl he meets along his journey, but at the time he feels it might not be love. A year or so of travelling later, he comes to understand that life with her is what he had been searching for all along, but on his way to return to the woman's homeland, his ship is boarded by pirates and he's killed. It's so unfair, he finally realizes what he wants in life and the opportunity is taken from him just when he's so close... I guess I shouldn't have expected a happy ending after all."

"Well maybe that's the point. Life isn't always happy endings. Some people are heroes, and they save they day and get the gold and marry the girl or whatever. But the rest of us? We're the ones searching for purpose our whole lives and just when we think we've found it, fate comes and shows us it has other plans. I think the book is just saying that sometimes you can't do a goddamned thing about fate, no matter how unfair it seems."

"Maybe you're right...but the best characters are the ones who try and change their fate, si? The ones who know they're destined for nothing great, but they won't stop trying to change that, to find happiness for themselves and make the most out of their lives. I mean, if you knew you were destined to live a short time, would you accept your fate of living a dull, unfulfilling life, and take the fact that you have no purpose and that life is unfair, or would you go out and find that purpose while you still can, take what the world owes you, and find your happiness?"

"I... I don't know what I would do." Samuel replied.

"All I'm saying is, the character who lives in an unjust world but who makes the most of it is the one people want to read about - not the one who accepts that life isn't fair so he might as well not even try. No one will read about him. Now do you have to use the bathroom or what, because we're here." Nicola helped Sam step into the restroom, and Sam grabbed onto the countertop.

"I can take it from here." He closed the door behind him and with great effort in balance made it to the toilet. He greatly considered the option to urinate sitting down, but decided to stand and use the counter for support instead. When he was done, he washed and dried his hands and, with the help of Nicola of course, made his way back to the couch.

"The ice pack has melted, do you need another?" Nicola asked his guest.

"No, I'll live," the man replied with a yawn.

"Alright, see you in the morning. I hope you don't need crutches, but it certainly isn't looking good."

"We'll see tomorrow. G'night, Nic." Samuel said as he shifted to lay on his side, facing the inside of the couch and wrapping the blanket around himself like a cocoon.

"Goodnight. Buona notte, Samuel." Nicola shut off the living room light and left his bedroom door slightly cracked. He put his glasses on the dresser and crawled into bed. It didn't take the Italian long to fall asleep, but rest didn't come so easy for his guest. As tired as he was, Samuel's thoughts about what Nicola said pertaining to the character in his book kept the blonde awake for what felt like ages. The kind of rattling introspection Samuel faced that night wasn't anything new for him however, so it wasn't impossible for his mind to settle down and allow him to fall into sleep eventually.


End file.
